Cubelife: The Update

A maze of cubicles.  People talking away on their headsets.  Mandatory meetings.  Quotas.  Pencil skirts.  This is where I work.  Oh, sure, it could be taken for the drab, crushing, corporate life.  I mean, I answer the phone, leave voicemails, have to formulate strategic plans for meeting my quota, avoid certain awkward office people, and wear a headset.  

Except.  

I was not born to fit.  I am learning this more and more the longer I walk with Jesus.  Neither are you.  Neither is anyone.  We were not born to fit in, but fit together, using differences as a multidimensional strength, not an aberration to be lopped off at the latest convenience.  

So, yes, I do have a cubicle.  I do wear a headset.  I do feel the pressure of trying to make my quota each month.  I do sit through meetings that could have been condensed to an email.  

But also…

I do spend most of my day at a standing desk - standing, line dancing, dancing in general, doing squats - or bouncing on a yoga ball.  I do occasionally stand on my rolly chair and twirl around to find the person I’m looking for (wherein I usually get admonished and asked haven’t I read Officer Buckle and Gloria to which I say, yes, I dislike it very much thank you.).  

I do wear a headset, which frees my hands up to do fistpumps, type memos and do power poses.  I do leave some of my customers singing voicemails during the holidays just because.  I do have meaningful water cooler conversations with my coworkers about their children and pets.  I do round people up for a daily stroll around the block because sitting all day isn’t good for you, and office air isn’t either.  Note: I do try to be a good responsible grownup when I must.  

See, it isn’t all bad and squelching and American nightmare.  I get to work with principals and teachers.  Some of them teach in schools with lots of students from lots of nations.  Some of them teach in schools surrounded by cornfields tilled by five generations of Johnsons and Smiths.  I get to give away free stuff that will help students meet their goals in meaningful ways.  I get to sell AP French and elementary science and middle school literature.  I get to make sure that schools get what they need to meet the rising demands of education.  

I get to work with people that make me laugh so hard I’m crying.  I get to celebrate with them when they make their quota.  I get to share their birthday donuts.  I get to hear updates about their kids’ football games.  I get to help them sort out the stresses of ordinary life that sometimes seem extraordinarily heavy.  

Being in sales is fun for a reason I didn’t anticipate when I began, as is usually the case.  My dad has been in sales for as long as trees have had leaves, and growing up I always heard stories about his trips and accounts.  Now I am running around in the business world trying to keep my accounts happy, and it’s created a sort of vocational kinship with my dad.  I can call him and talk about strategies or efficiency or whatever is going on that day.  

Is it the perfect job?  Nope.  I don’t think they make those.  Do I want to do it until I’m 70?  Probably not, but if I did, it wouldn’t be a bad gig.  Do I love it and am I beyond thankful that God has me here?  Yep-o-rama.  

Pearson is a great place to work.  Tomorrow, they’re taking our entire department to attend training in Orlando for the week.  Helllooooo, business trip!  

Sometimes it’s more about making whatever you do meaningful than searching high and low for something that seems meaningful to do.

- Little Miss Sunshine, who occasionally wears pencil skirts, and who is chided at least once a week for standing on her desk chair.